


Easy

by SenkoWakimarin



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 16:03:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4026154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenkoWakimarin/pseuds/SenkoWakimarin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris has been interrogated before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Easy

**Author's Note:**

> From my Chris Walker blog, for tumblr user SexualXSadist.

“I think I liked it better when you fought,” whispered the voice in his ear.

Aching, nauseous, and exhausted, Chris didn’t look at the man speaking to him. Doctor, scientist… some jumped up fuck that got a stiffy from fucking around in people’s head. He knew protocol though, he knew better than to look at the asshole. 

keep your neck stiff jaw clenched eyes forward

“Maybe I should mention to my superiors how comfortable you’ve gotten,” the voice wheedles its way into his consciousness, eyes hard on the screen in front of him. Something is moving in the video. Not the shapes but the space between the shapes. 

Focus on that. Don’t look at the speaker. Track the change, follow

never answer cry if you have to piss puke shit your pants but give those bastards nothing

protocol. Don’t listen, track the way that negative space keeps shifting around, eating itself and spitting itself back out. 

That’s it, that’s it, there’s the static, that hum that buzzes so perfectly though your thoughts. There’s a threat there somewhere, but it’s good, too — that thing, that dangerous thing, you’re close, close enough to touch and it would be 

violentrevengeprotectionweapon 

good for you to do that, touch it, take it, be it, host it.

“why a child, they’d ask me, and I would say, listen to the way he says his daughter’s name,” the voice says, and all at once Chris’s eyes are wide open, “he’d break in a second if he saw what we could make of her,” and that Presence snaps it’s attention away from him, no longer interested, chased out by the awareness of machine screaming and voices talking and hands, hands heavy and almost fatherly on his shoulders, there’s no protocol, no protocol

“and they’d say, Andy that’s going a little far, Hailey’s only six, and I’d say”

the straps strain, burn as he tries to pull out of the chair, his scream slowly drowning out the other man’s voice. But not before he hears,

“six-year-old orphans die all the time.”


End file.
